


It's Always Going To Be

by raquians



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, M/M, smut but not really smut because it's pretty vague?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-08
Updated: 2013-03-08
Packaged: 2017-12-04 15:41:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/712362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raquians/pseuds/raquians
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis really likes the word hi and he uses it in a lot of situations. Harry really likes Louis and so he likes whatever Louis likes, really. </p>
<p>(Harry got hi tattooed on his arm for more than one reason.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Always Going To Be

**Author's Note:**

> Ha-- you should ignore the smut because it sucks and I don't mean like Harry sucks Louis, I mean like the way that the boys aren't performing Nobody Compares sucks. It's just awful because I've never written smut before so? I didn't want to write a lot either so it's pretty vague. 
> 
> Um. Anyways. This is pretty much just my take on the whole 'hi' tattoo. I might do another for the 'oops' tattoo but I'm not entirely sure yet. 
> 
> Also, I still don't have a beta, it's 1am on a school night, and I just finished this about three minutes ago, so please excuse any mistakes and I'll look over this tomorrow and fix as much as I can. (: 
> 
> (also yes i know the title suck ok bye)

**First meeting.**

He was scared. He was _really_ scared, and it felt like he couldn’t breathe, and his vision was going blurry and his hearing was becoming muffled and he needed an escape from where he stood, needed to be away from his family and friends’ loving embraces.

It was hard to slip away from them—he had just passed the first round of X-Factor’s judging after all, and they were all so proud of him.

He just wasn’t sure _why_ they were so proud of him. He had gotten a _no_ , and sure, Louis wasn’t Simon Cowell or anything, but Harry had still given him some reason to say no. Yeah, he was through to boot camp, but without support from each and every judge, how would he make it to the judge’s houses? And even if he did, what if Louis became his mentor?

He shoved open the bathroom door blindly, keeping his head down as he made his way to the sink. He ignored the figure who was emerging from one of the stalls and turned on the faucet, bending down so he could rinse his face with the cool water. There was a timid tap on his shoulder and he shot up, knocking his head on the ledge protruding from the mirror. He stepped back, trying to get his head away from the metal shelf and yelped when he stumbled back into another body, knocking them both to the floor. He heard a small groan of pain from the body that was trapped beneath him and he scrambled off the boy to survey the damage he’d done.

The boy was rubbing the back of his head with a grimace on his face. “Oops,” Harry squeaked, embarrassed by his actions. He wanted to disappear—get away from the boy who was sure to be glaring at him as soon as he managed to open his eyes.

He didn’t, though. Glare, that is. When the fallen boy finally managed to open his eyes, they were slightly wet, but of course that was to be expected when Harry was fairly certain the fall had caused the feathery haired boy’s head to collide with the tiled floor. As soon as the blue eyes fell upon Harry however, they brightened. “Hi!” the boy greeted excitedly.

Harry’s eyebrows knit together. “Hey,” he answered back cautiously, pushing himself from the ground and to his feet. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” the blue-eyed boy waved off. “Are you? You seem a bit jumpy.”

“Yeah, ‘m fine. Just—thought I would be calmer after my audition. Turns out I’m more wound up.”

The other boy’s eyebrows shot up. “What? Why? You killed it! I was rooting for you—knew you would make it through.”

Harry blushed. “Eh—I could’ve probably done a bit better.”

“What? Are you insane? You were bloody amazing—that Louis doesn’t have a clue what he was talking about.” After a few seconds of silence, the boy dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone. “C’mere,” he urged Harry. “While I’ve got you here I want a picture with you—one that I can show my friends when your first world tour sells out.”

Harry blushed and the boy laughed and Harry couldn’t resist. He was then forced to sign his first autograph for the boy, scribbling his signature down permanently on a paper towel.

“Thanks! I’m Louis, by the way.”

Harry nodded thinking that somehow, Louis just _looked_ like his name, and thousands of other things that Harry wasn’t quite sure of yet.

They only got to chat for another two minutes—then Louis was hurrying back to his family since he would be up soon. Harry stayed and watched Louis and his blue eyes perform, and he couldn’t stop the achingly wide grin from stretching across his face when he was put through to boot camp as well.

He didn’t let his heart convince his mind that he cared more about Louis Tomlinson’s opinion than Louis Walsh’s.

 

**First kiss.**

They’ve only really been mates for a few weeks but Harry and Louis quickly rid their relationship of any sort of boundaries. They cuddled constantly, flirted non-stop, slept in the same bed every night, told each other anything and everything, and simply didn’t hold anything back. Except for their true feelings.

It became too much for Louis though. He _really_ fancied Harry—a _lot_. He knew that Harry _had_ to feel something back because if he didn’t… it just wouldn’t make sense. For all of the time they spent together, all of the things they knew about one another, and all of the ways they understood one another—Louis _knew_ it had to be more than friendship.

And the sexual tension was driving him _mad_. He just wanted to kiss Harry until he ran out of oxygen—tangle his fingers in the younger boy’s curls and tug at them and make Harry moan into his mouth. He just wanted to _taste_ Harry—to breathe Harry in.

It was definitely becoming too much to hold back, so Louis just decided that he wouldn’t anymore.

Every Wednesday was their _off_ day and that meant every Wednesday was Harry and Louis day. No one dared interrupt them on Wednesdays, everyone knew better because it was usually the days where Harry would be missing home or Louis would be feeling guilt for abandoning his mum and sisters or both of them would be particularly reminiscent and they would divulge all their past secrets to one another. It was just the way that they were.

This particular Wednesday, Louis knew that something was going to change—but he didn’t know whether it would be for better or worse. He was almost positive that it would be a change for the better, but he had also once been positive that he was great in maths, and then higher level schooling came around and he wasn’t so sure anymore. So he was really hoping Harry wasn’t like a higher level of maths that he would never be able to do (because Louis honest to god just wanted to _do_ Harry and fuck him senseless if he was being completely honest).

At half after noon, Louis and Harry sat cuddling in Harry’s top bunk, picking at a bag of crisps that Louis had snuck away from the kitchen.

“… so pretty much I just got sick of trying to impress her, y’know?” Harry murmured in conclusion to a story that he had been telling Louis. Louis nodded distractedly causing Harry to frown. “You alright babe?”

Snapping out of his daze, Louis looked back to Harry who was staring down at him in concern. Louis opened his mouth to speak but quickly decided against it and instead surged his entire body forwards, colliding his lips with Harry’s full, pink ones. The younger boy let out a muffled yelp of surprise, his arms flailing around, looking for something to grab on to in order to keep himself upright even as Louis’s attack nearly flattened him on to the mattress.

It took a few seconds but as soon as Harry realized exactly _what_ was going on, he relaxed, but still didn’t kiss back. Louis didn’t like that fact, so he pressed on, tracing Harry’s lips with his tongue until the sixteen year old moaned, parting his lips obediently. Louis took his chance then and slipped his tongue into Harry’s mouth.

Harry moaned again, shifting in the bed so he was laid flat on his back, the crisps falling off the edge of the bed to the ground. Harry gripped tightly at Louis’s waist and pressed their hips together which caused both of them to groan into each other’s mouths. Louis tangled both hands into Harry’s curls and tugged and Harry gasped, pulling back out of the kiss. Instead of pulling back, Louis began pressing open mouthed kisses all along Harry’s chin and neck, nipping and licking and sucking at the skin on his prominent collar bones.

After a particularly harsh bite to Harry’s shoulder, Louis felt a hand grip his chin and drag his face back up to Harry’s who connected their lips desperately.

They stayed like that for as long as they could, shifting and pressing against each other, rolling around in the small twin sized bed, grappling for any type of hold they could get on one another. Eventually it all became too much and they had to pull away from each other, completely breathless.

They lay like that—bodies pressed together intimately, Louis’s form a dead weight on top of Harry’s—for a while in a state of bliss, panting against each other’s skin with closed eyes.

When Louis finally opened his a few minutes after they had finished, he opened them to find Harry’s green eyes staring into his, and he felt _giddy_ suddenly. He giggled happily and snuggled in to Harry’s chest. “Hi,” he murmured—his voice shaky and nervous.

“Hello,” Harry replied breathlessly.

They end up falling asleep like that only to be rudely awakened several hours later by a furious Niall for wasting a bag of crisps, a furious Liam for probably attracting ants to their room, and an incredibly amused Zayn.

 

**First time.**  

After the end of the X Factor, the boys of One Direction refused to part ways, which was thankfully made possible when Simon whisked them up to his office to offer them a deal anyways. They hadn’t won, and their hearts weren’t completely recovered from the crushing blow of coming in third, but they were over the moon at the opportunity the man was giving them and all of them accepted it without a second thought.

There were conditions though—one of them refrained any of them from coming out for at least four years, if any of them happened to be gay. One of them that refrained them from having inner-band relations. One of them that gave Simon’s management group, Modest!, control over some aspects of the boys’ personal lives. Louis didn’t mind though because he wasn’t in a relationship with Harry, and he wasn’t planning on coming out to the world any time soon, and he was pretty bad at managing his life so having an entire team control it for him sounded pretty okay.

Over the next few weeks he realized he _did_ mind, though. He minded because the longer he spent without Harry, the greater his feelings grew until he was fairly certain that he couldn’t be feeling anything less that true love towards the curly haired boy. He wanted nothing more than to _be_ with Harry—in a relationship, especially.

It was three days after their first X Factor tour performance that Louis admitted his feelings to Harry with a quiet “I really like you, y’know” while they snogged in their hotel room. Harry froze and pulled away, shock written across his features. Louis frowned, tugging Harry back into him. “What? Haz—I just, needed to let you know. Can’t do anything about it ‘cause of our contract anyways—you don’t need to worry.”

“To hell with that fucking contract,” Harry told him before lunging forward to connect their lips passionately. Louis let out a muffled squeak of surprise and Harry nipped at his lips, grinding himself down on Louis.

Moans ripped through both boys’ throats, and both of them were tugging desperately at their own trousers, desperate for relief. Harry managed to un-do his first and Louis whined when he pulled away to pull them off. The younger of the two quickly returned to Louis to pull Louis’s own off before quickly stripping their shirts off as well. They kissed again, skin to skin, and when Louis bucked up into Harry, they both decided that they finally could—there was no more putting it off.

Sure, they had given each other hand jobs and blow jobs—they had even fingered and rimmed. But they hadn’t gone all the way yet, and right in this moment Louis was so thankful for that because it made their getting together feel more official.

Harry leaned off the bed and reached into the suitcase that they had set at the end of the bed and produced a packet of lube and a condom. He crawled back to Louis, kneeling in between his widely spread legs. He quickly set to work, drizzling a fair amount of the lube over his fingers before easing one in to Louis who moaned filthily. Harry worked him open slowly, adding another finger after a while, scissoring, and then adding in a third finger.

By this point Louis was moaning, panting, begging for Harry and the younger boy couldn’t wait any longer either. He rolled on the condom and slicked himself up before pressing into Louis slowly, inch my inch. Louis held his breath as Harry slid in for the first time, only letting out the air once Harry’s hips were pressed flush against his ass. It was still for a moment—Harry giving Louis time to adjust and Louis trying to calm his racing heart, along with trying to prevent himself from coming right then and there because the sight of Harry looming over him was almost _too much_.

Before too long, Louis started rutting his hips up, searching for friction that he wasn’t sure he could handle yet. His body tinged with an immense feeling of pleasure when he did so and he moaned, wrapping his legs around Harry’s back, using his heels to push Harry impossibly closer to him. Harry looked down at him, panting, and Louis nodded once, setting Harry off.

Harry pulled out nearly all the way before forcibly slamming himself back into Louis, reveling in the sound of the boy’s scream mixed with the slapping of their skin. Pants and moans filled the hotel room as Harry continued thrusting quickly and roughly into the smaller boy. He leaned down to connect their lips, making sure to press his stomach into Louis’s front, trapping Louis’s dick between their skin, giving it just enough friction to help him along as Harry fucked into him. The change in angle happened to cause Harry to slam right into Louis’s prostate, and with each thrust the smaller boy would let out a small mewl that was muffled by Harry’s lips.

One, two, three more thrusts and Louis was screaming into Harry’s mouth. Harry pulled away quickly to watch his face contort with pleasure as he called out Harry’s name, his come shooting up between their chests. He felt Harry’s rhythm falter and felt his forehead drop to rest on Louis’s shoulder and soon Harry was following Louis over the edge, crying out Louis’s name as he rode through his orgasm.

Harry collapsed on top of Louis then, both of them panting and flushed. Harry didn’t bother to pull out—not yet anyways because he was pretty sure his dick couldn’t handle that right now—but he moved from Louis’s chest to his face, biting the older boy’s bottom lip before licking into his mouth, kissing him deeply. They did so until Harry felt he was finally calm enough to pull out, and Louis let out a long moan as Harry did so. Harry laughed and then collapsed back on top of Louis, who stared up at him in awe. “Hi,” he whispered, scared to break the silence.

“Hi,” Harry answered back, his voice just as soft.

“I think I might love you,” Louis admitted unabashedly.

Harry’s face lights up in a grin. “I think I might love you, too.”

 

**First beard.**

“I’m sorry,” Louis sighed heavily, curling into Harry’s side. “I don’t want to go.”

Harry shrugged. “It’s fine. I mean—I don’t want you to go either, but it’s okay. I understand.”

Louis groaned. “Can’t you tell me not to go? Tell me to stay, Harry. Tell me you don’t want me to go—just tell me that you want me to stay.”

“No,” Harry laughed. “We’ve got tonight, and we’ve got all the time in the world. We can sacrifice a few hours. Besides—I’m leaving too to meet up with Nick. Eleanor’s a nice girl—you’ve been friends for a while. And you hold Daisy and Phoebe’s hands—just imagine you’re with your sister.”

They still had an hour and a half before either of them had to actually leave, so they opted to cuddling on their couch with _The Lion King_ playing on screen. The volume was turned almost all the way down, but the pictures flashing across screen somehow helped to calm Louis down.

Over the past few months, time had flown by. They were just beginning to release their first single—the actual release would be next month but they were starting with radio plays—and they were just finishing up their first album. It was all a blur to Louis and Harry, but they had each other to distract and comfort one another, so they still felt pretty okay with everything. The stress wasn’t as bad as they had once thought it would be.

The only bad part of the last few months had been their managing team discovering their relationship (so Louis wanted to snog Harry in a bathroom stall before a meeting—they never thought someone would notice that there were two pairs of feet in a single stall) and trying to put a stop to it. When they threatened to find different management (with the other boys’ full support), the team gave in and allowed the relationship to carry on, so long one of them took on a fake girlfriend just to ensure they were well hidden. Louis jumped at the offer, happy to have found compromise so easily.

They decided on Eleanor, the daughter of his father’s best mate from high school. He was close with Eleanor’s family—or, well, close enough to be able to act in love with her at times. He knew for a fact that she got on well with his family too, and she was one of the few people who know that Louis was gay. When they had called her up and explained their situation, she cooed endlessly at Louis and he blushed madly, hating that she was on speaker phone in front of his boyfriend and three of his best mates. He thanked her nonetheless and promised he’d call her soon to set up their first outing.

Their first outing was V Festival and while he was looking forward to it, and also looking forward to meeting up with one of his best mates, he wasn’t looking forward to spending one of the band’s days off away from Harry. He didn’t have a choice, though.

He snuggled in even closer to Harry, not wanting to ever let go. He thought back to the time when he thought that one day he might have had to let him go and suddenly he perks up, jumping to his feet and running off to their kitchen without any explanation to Harry.

Harry watches Louis go with a confused scowl on his face, frowning deeper when he returned with a black sharpie.

“What’s that?”

“Sharpie,” Louis grinned, uncapping it. “’member the last four weeks of the X Factor?”

Harry’s eyes brightened as the memories flooded through his mind. In the final weeks of the live shows for the X Factor, Louis became addicted to scribbling words and pictures over Harry’s skin—his back, stomach, chest, shoulders, arms, thighs… Anywhere that could be covered easily. It would usually be things like a poorly drawn bird, or an attempt at a sailboat, or a penis, or a stick figure portrait of his sisters. Sometimes he wrote things like ‘Haz and Lou’ or ‘Louis and Harry’ or Curly (that one was always right between his shoulder blades with an arrow pointing up towards his head of hair).

Sometimes he would write reminders of sorts, however. One time when he was away for the day—out with his mum and sisters who had come down to visit—he drew an ‘L’ on the back of Harry’s hand so that Harry would constantly be reminded of the fact that Louis wasn’t currently with him.

Now, Louis was leaning in close, his tongue poking out from between his lips. Harry knew he was trying to figure out what to write and where to write it. Finally, he rolled Harry’s left sleeve up and stretched his arm out, pressing the pen to his skin, tracing two letters. Hi.

When he finished, he recapped the marker and pressed a kiss to the word before sitting back on his heels and beaming at Harry.

Harry frowned at him, tilting his head. He wasn’t entirely sure what significance ‘hi’ held in their relationship, but he knew Louis was proud of what he thought up. Louis understood Harry’s confusion and laughed, leaning into press a chaste kiss to his boyfriend’s lips.

“I know it’s like, the beginning of a conversation and therefore probably the first words a lot of people say to each other, but it was my first word to you, and I just want you to know that it’s also a promise that I’m always going to be here to greet you at the end of any day we spend apart. And every morning, too. And just, like, I know it sounds stupid, but I promise that it’s always going to be a _hi_ in the end for us. Never a _bye_ , really, because we won’t ever be apart for too long. It’s stupid… but…” he sighed and crawled into Harry’s arms. “I was just thinking about how long today is going to be, and how much I’m looking forward to tonight—saying ‘hi’ before I kiss you. And that’s all I want right now—to be coming back to you. Not leaving. I never want to leave you. But when I have to… All I’ll look forward to is being back with you, Haz.”

By the end of Louis’s speech, Harry felt a lump in the back of his throat and he tried to swallow it down. He stared at Louis who was looking down at the sharpie in his hands, his lips pouted slightly in fear of Harry’s rejection of his written word.

Harry reached a hand out to tilt Louis’s chin up to face him and leaned forward, kissing him deeply.

That night when Harry came home from a night out with Nick and a few other friends, Louis was sitting perched on the couch, half way through an episode of _Friends_. When he heard Harry slam the door shut he jumped up and watched Harry walk towards him.

“Hi,” he greeted the taller boy cheekily. Harry stared down at him with shining eyes. Louis rolled his blue eyes and pushed himself on to his toes, crushing his lips to Harry’s.

 

**First word.**

Harry had been waiting for the right time to get the tattoo—he’s anticipated it since he took a picture of it all those months ago. He’s kept that picture hidden on his phone, never wanting Louis to find out that he still remembered that day near perfectly. He hadn’t been willing to simply let the sharpie’s marks fade away from him, so he vowed that one day he would make them permanent.

He knew Louis was upset because their management was forcing Eleanor on to Louis more and more and Louis was tired of it. Especially the days that he had planned to spend with Harry until a phone call demanded that he take out a girl who was great, yeah, but was _not_ his boyfriend.

It was one of those unexpected days that Harry found Zayn and begged (well, he didn’t really need to beg at all) him to head to the tattoo parlor with him. Zayn was more than happy to accompany him, picking out another tattoo of his own.

When Zayn saw the tattooist tracing the picture from Harry’s phone he shot Harry a look as if to ask if he was sure about what he was doing and all Harry could do was nod with a broad grin stretched across his face. Louis had drawn an ‘L’ on the inside of Harry’s wrist that particular day and if it weren’t so glaringly obvious, he would have asked the artist to simply make that letter permanent. But he couldn’t—and besides, he liked ‘hi’ a lot more, especially after he and Louis recounted their first kiss and first time and Harry realized that ‘hi’ would always be more than just a simple _greeting_.

A few hours and a new tattoo later, Harry was back at the bus, tracing the ink through the saran wrap covering it. He was nervous—what if Louis didn’t remember? What if he thought it was silly? Louis hadn’t ever really _loved_ tattoos—he had just brushed them off without a care. What if this didn’t mean as much to Louis as it did to Harry?

Another hour and a half and Harry was peeling the saran wrap off, just as Louis and Eleanor were returning from their day shopping. Louis was stepping in to the room just as Harry was tossing the wrap into the trash bin, and Louis choked, surprised to see him. He quickly recovered his composure and brightened up, striding over towards Harry, opening his mouth to greet him.

This time—for the first time ever—Harry held up a hand to silence him. Louis froze mid-step to stare at him in complete shock. Slowly, Harry began to roll up his left sleeve until his newest tattoo was on display for the older boy to see.

Louis stared at it for a minute, his mouth hanging open. Harry saw his eyes becoming watery and he smiled, feeling successful because he knew those were tears of amazement and joy. In the next second Louis was flinging himself across the final distance between himself and Harry, wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck and hauling himself up to attack the younger boy’s lips with his own. Harry laughed gleefully into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Louis’s waist and lifting his body from the ground.

They made their way through the bus and into their bunk without breaking apart from more than a second to take in some oxygen. They fell onto their bunk then and tangled themselves in each other, forgetting the rest of the world. They vaguely remember Eleanor’s laugh and warning to always close the door, and then the clicking of the door knob.

Later, as they laid in bed naked, panting, and sweaty, Louis pressed his lips to the tattoo gently. He looked up at Harry and smiled. “Hi.” 


End file.
